The Woman You Know
by Sweet Sociopath
Summary: One shot, rough, brutal, nothing to extend on, cannibalism of sorts, suggestions of incest, torture, gore. Rated 'M' for violence. Don't like? Don't read.


**Random, written while in the mood, short, gore, cannibalism, swearing etc. Rated 'M' for violence. Don't like? Don't read. Good bye.**

"Why won't you _fucking die_!?_"_ she screamed, stabbing the knife one final time into the other woman's chest before the blonde witch fell to the ground.  
Bellatrix's arms were covered in blood and her mouth too. The woman was the spitting image of her sister. She held her stomach momentarily; her breath heavy as she dropped back ran her blood sodden hand through her hair. Licking her lips of the crimson liquid, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand; she'd bitten through the first layer of skin on her lip. Sucking her lip, she sighed and cracked her knuckles. Unladylike, her mother had told her. She didn't give a flying fuck.  
The killing curse was too easy. She liked to hear screams and she needed to physically exert herself sometimes. The cruciatus curse took a hell of a lot out of her but this time she wanted to see blood. See the inside of the woman's body. Flicking her hair back, she stood over the dead body that resembled all too much her youngest sister. Narcissa annoyed her like crazy, she'd never kill her of course, but she needed to get this out.

'Honestly Bella, why can't you ever apologise for things that have hurt my feelings?'  
'Because I'm not sorry for what I did'  
'But you hurt my feelings, you're so _rude _Bella'  
'It's too fucking _easy_ to hurt your feelings'  
'There's no need to use such vile language.'  
'And there's no need to say sorry.'

Her fingers had almost started trembling again before she had left the body, dumped it elsewhere, she couldn't care less for the woman. Another victim would be all too easy to find, and she was. Again, she was blonde; she had blue eyes like Narcissa and the fairest skin. She loved her sister, but god_damn _she deserved a few slaps every now and again.

Yanking the woman's hair back, it fell out of the bun but she didn't care. She struggled, screamed but shut up after she saw the sharp pointed dagger in the dark haired witch's hand.  
"My father gave me this," she said in almost a purr at the memory, "For my 16th birthday. Nice isn't it?"  
"You're not going to get away with this." The blonde whimpered, tears falling down her face.  
"Oh but I already have." She smiled a little, stroking down her cheek, only making her tremble more so as the still drying blood on her arms coated the woman's face in a thin layer of blood, "As I was saying. Yes, my father gave it to me. I never quite knew it would come in handy until now. I had a rather close relationship with him, still do. A sickeningly close one some would say."  
The woman gulped, she didn't know what she was talking about and she didn't care.  
"Now this is going to hurt but you're going to have to stay _real _still for me now." She purred as she moved in closer and closer, silently, predatorily with her eyes on the woman deciding where to go first.  
"No _please_..." the woman whimpered.  
"DON'T YOU _DARE_!" she screeched, bringing the dagger up and without any means to play with her, sunk the dagger deep into the woman's chest.  
Bringing it back out and suddenly slamming it back into her chest, letting crimson liquid pour form her body as she screamed and cried, she dragged the dagger down along the woman's body.  
"You stupid _pathetic _woman!" she hissed darkly, dragging the blade along, she hadn't even tortured her, but she knew where to hit to make her pain last longer, as the woman screamed as she slapped her, cut her, sunk the blade all too hard into her body, she had no remorse as she yelled over her, her hand tight around the blade, she sunk it hard into the other woman and dragged it down to her core, peeling her body open. After a moment, she dropped the blade, she was dying, half dead, but she'd make her pain stay for as long as possible.  
She sunk her nails into the woman and underneath the plate of her chest, pulling the pale clean from her body, she was now a dead mess, bloody and ruined. Her face was contorted into nothing but pain, her back arched, now slumped as the dark haired witch coated her arms and mouth and neck in the blood, breathing heavily through the rich coppery smell of blood, she let her hands run along her skin, coating it thickly with every swipe.  
She sucked the blood off her fingers, moaning almost as she tasted it, felt the liquid drip thickly onto her dress. Not caring much the woman beneath her was dead; she pried apart her rib cages and sunk her fingers into the blood sodden body, feeling the blood warm and smelling fresh before standing, tucking the loose hair away and leaving into the night.


End file.
